urban desert
Hypnotized walk down the aisle;
supermarket allures, calls.
Socrates waits outside
there are so many things that
he does not need, unlike me.
Weekend makes a balloon face;
get lost at the next bend; draw
the cover of advertisement
over yourself, disappear
in moments that mean nothing.
=© 2009-Copyright reserved Kushal Poddar (reprinting is absolutely prohibited, without permission)
Sonnet on a town gossip
It is a small hole through which everything else
pours out; without as much a sound as ‘hissss’.
The body is now a threat, a silent one
needs to be hidden in a more hushed manner.
The small hole remains there in the killer’s faith,
in the coroner’s papers or in the quiet
little place where one promise meets another.
In this town news travels through the butchers or
the barber who calls himself a hair stylist.
News like ‘he is killed in a promoter’s war’,
news like ‘Krish has fallen in love and seen with
your daughter at the killed man’s park’ travel fast.
Peace then crosses the midday road and you press
a sudden break to let it pass. A small hole stays.
=© 2009-Copyright reserved Kushal Poddar (reprinting is absolutely prohibited, without permission)
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Comments: 85
on a town gossip
Like has its mood swing.
Namaste..........
Advertising is somewhat like gossip...it usually is an embellishment of the truth
You are a master in taking the "mundane" and making it profane..Kudos mon bard
And yes, there's always that hole there.
Cheers? I remember that one too, Dawn -- where everybody knows your name? Yes, Norm! Me too :)
Enough, the more I type, the older I'm getting here.
on a town gossip
Socrates waits outside
there are so many things that
he does not need, unlike me.
But the town gossip sees that what is spoken IS the truth. Think of Emily Dickinson's line, "Tell the truth/but tell it slant." These are both about making a story, an observation, a piece of useless information, the "truth."
The first poem is wonderful; how you equate your life with Socrates' -- this sets up an immediate comparison of your life, and his.
In the second poem, you set up the stanza beautifully, after having invoked the word "balloon" in the first poem, with the use of the word 'hissss."
In the line "and needs to be hid in a more hushed manner," the word should be "hidden."
Kushal, these poems are so evocative, and are almost novelistic in the whole stories they tell.
Are you sending out your poems for review and publication? Because you should be!
Are you connected to our Pre-Simulationist group? John Walter helped to start a new group of poets, and we have a closed site. I'll e-mail the new moderator, and ask how you can join.
And your poems... I pictured Socrates as a person of the street, lingering throughout the ages outside the marketplace.
The mood in the second piece left me wondering after apathy; the variety of duck and cover around a small town homicide and the hissing away of a life.
Very well done.
killing some truths
Brudder be hopeful.
a sudden break to let it pass. A small hole stays"
and stays and stays. Touching home Poddar
How right you are.
Thanks Ruthi.
on a town gossip
Then there is this set of words, and I now have time on my hand again so what’s with these words -
‘get lost at the next bend; draw
the cover of advertisement
over yourself, disappear
in moments that mean nothing.’
In Los Angeles that happens every nite with the homeless, but you’re not homeless. =)
‘you press
a sudden break to let it pass’
Let’s see, A fart? No! probably not from you.
‘the barber who calls himself a hair stylist.’
Even in St. Cloud that’s what they call themselves. I used to wonder where the barber shops are, as there are none here at all.
‘News like ‘he is killed in a promoter’s war’,’
I would assume that’s good news.
But still I like your choice of words as I can think again or is that still and thanks for your words of poetry.
Gossips are destroyers. Was this gossip killed? Or does he relish telling of the death of someone else? I wonder. Either way, a hole is left, both in someone's body and in the soul of the listener.
Thanks for posting to my group, Anythingwriting
killing some truths
I've left a personal comment above and...
Thank you Kushal, from The Surreal Circus.